#so not exactly the traditional idea of 'true neutral' but true neutral nonetheless i think!!!

[justiceburst]

Moral Alignment Test

Goro is 18.3% good, tied between chaotic and lawful, making him true neutral.

[honsoolie]

don’t rush | 02

pairing: Yoongi/reader

genre: slight enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, eventual smut, classical pianist!yoongi, violinist!reader, they’re both actually really into each other but won’t admit it

warnings (for this chapter only): mentions of stage fright/performance anxiety, swearing, sexual references, slight angst, dad jokes :|  

words: 6k 

rating: +18

summary: You know, when Min Yoongi’s face isn’t screwed into an accusatory scowl, he looks exactly like the kind of guy you’d have no trouble falling in love with. Or, the conservatory au where Yoongi helps you get over your stage fright. In more ways than one.

a/n: didn’t plan to take this long for an update, life gets in the way, you know the drill. read 01 here and as always, this is crossposted to ao3 :) 

When you get inside, the warmth welcomes you in. You’re not quite sure if it’s from the heating in the hallway or how Yoongi’s eyes had shone in the moonlight. You lean against the inner door frame, a happy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, legs a little weak in the knee. You feel light-headed, maybe from being up late, maybe from your exhausting day, maybe from the lingering remnants of Yoongi’s cologne. 

Did that really just happen? Did he really just ask for your number? Was this all a dream?

The euphoria is short-lasting, however. You still have some assignments waiting for you, and only a couple hours left until your morning classes. The tiredness never lets up, and your limbs heavy again as you make your way inside the lobby of your dorm.  

Unknown number (2:47am): hi this is yoongi 

Unknown number (2:47am): did you get inside ok? 

You (2:48am): yeah

You (2:48am): did u? 

  Yoongi (2:50am): im walking back now 

Yoongi (2:50am): you should sleep soon :// 

  You (2:51am): I still have hw :( 

You (2:51am): text me when ur back inside too 

  Yoongi (2:53am): lmaoo is it counterpoint hw 

Yoongi (2:54am): it’s so sweet that you care for my safety ;( 

  You (2:54am): yes sadly 

You (2:55am): ofc I care, we can’t have our amazing star pianist get hurt 

  Yoongi (2:55am): im home now

Yoongi (2:58am): you have a thing for praise, don’t you 

Even though you can’t see him, you splutter alone in your room, roommate fast asleep. There is no way that means what you think it means. 

You (3:00am): idk where u got that from 

You (3:03am): maybe i do, you’ll have to find out 

  Yoongi (3:04am): I would, but you have to finish your analysis worksheet :/ 

  You (3:15am): ugh, fuck it

You (3:15am): im going to sleep 

You (3:15am): ill just wake up early tomorrow to finish it before class 

  Yoongi (3:16am): what? No goodnight? >:( 

Yoongi (3:17am): some manners you have 

Yoongi (3:17am): what a rude girl 

  You (3:18am): aw have i been bad? 

You (3:18am): I’m sooooo sorry 

You (3:19am): gn 

The minutes tick by, and you grow more indignant than you should. Is he serious? 

Who doesn’t say goodnight back? Maybe you scared him off. Maybe all this “flirtatious” banter was just how Yoongi talked to his friends. How would you know? You don’t know anything about him. 

The same insidious doubt creeps back in. Maybe this is all a game to him. Maybe he just wanted to introduce himself to another music student in the department, you all were supposed to know each other anyway. Maybe, worst of all, he had really only meant to wake you up in the music building as a simple courtesy, no intent behind it. You groan as you sink into your bed, cradling your head in your hands. 

You (3:27am): some hypocrite you are 

  Yoongi (3:30am): I was in the showerrr relax 

Yoongi (3:31am): hm you have been bad 

Yoongi (3:33am): maybe I should punish you 

  You (3:29am): u wish 

You (3:30am): but goodnight for real, we have class in five hours :”( 

  Yoongi (3:31am): goodnight

Yoongi (3:31am): save me a spot next to you 

~

You were in the world’s smallest big crisis. 

Was Yoongi actually serious when he asked you to save a seat? Or were you just indulging in wishful thinking? Was he flirting with you last night? And if he was, what are you supposed to do now? 

Whatever he meant, you would have to face him now. 

The endless litany of maybes and what-ifs grows louder in your head, even louder than last night during your text correspondence with him.You elect to use your backpack to save the seat next to you as class time draws nearer, chiding yourself for overthinking something so casual, but it does nothing to soothe your existential anxiety. 

“Thanks for saving me a spot, I’m so glad you remembered.” A voice brings you out of your reverie. It takes a moment to register who it is at first. Your eyes meet the traditional college garb first, sweatpants and an overwashed fundraising t-shirt, then the half-tamed cowlick, that ever-present cup of coffee. Your breath catches in your throat, breathtaking despite the casual circumstances. It’s just another class lecture, you chastise yourself, but your gut twists nonetheless. 

Seeing Yoongi in such close quarters is still an adjustment for you, his presence (or even the thought of being close to him) a shock to your body. You had spent so much time languishing after him that even now, it still feels like waking up into a dream. 

You clear your throat, stalling, “Yeah, putting my backpack in the seat next to mine was sooo hard. You should compensate me for my labor.” 

You try to put on the flirty smile that you were wearing last night, but it feels like a grimace. God, you are way too nervous for this. 

You realize you’ll never get tired of the way he laughs at your shitty jokes, the way his shoulders shake and eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“Yeah, I will, don’t you worry about that.” He sinks into the seat next to you and doesn’t spare you a second glance. 

Dr. Won walks in, the picture of put-togetherness, killing whatever flirty response you had formulated. 

You thought you had enjoyed having a crush before, but admiring someone and imagining a life together from afar was worlds away from talking and sitting next to said object of affection. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. You shouldn’t be tripping all over yourself when Yoongi sits next to you in lecture. 

Whatever Dr. Won is saying is drowned out by Yoongi sitting next to you. It feels deeply unfair how he affects you, when he gets to sit next to you like nothing important is happening. It’s just another day in lecture, preparing for the midterms coming up. 

He’s not even doing anything, minding his own business. You shouldn’t be swooning when he is just sitting there, again bouncing his leg, taking diligent notes. From the furtive glances you steal, even his handwriting is attractive. Endearing, even if it was a little messy and looping over the printed lines.

~

True fact: the only reason why Yoongi fidgets so much is because of the effect you had on him. It drives him up the wall, the way you keep tucking your hair behind your ear. He envies your unfaltering concentration, the look in your eye when you see something on the Powerpoint slides that you have to jot down. 

Yoongi can’t stand to silently sit next to you without doing anything anymore. Taking his pen, he scrawls on the corner of your neat notes. He knows it’ll piss you off, but that’s the reaction that he wants. 

  do you have any idea what is going on 

  He watches carefully for your reaction. Satisfaction creeps into his neutral expression when you notice, confusion turning into what could only be a lovestruck smile, and then into an irritated grimace. Fuck, even the curve of your wrist was enough to drive him crazy. You pick up your pen, writing back. 

  No, stop writing on my stuff 

  Okay, new plan, Yoongi concedes. He settles for writing on the corner of his own notes, tearing off the corner. He slips the paper into your lap, fingertips skimming the top of your thigh. He doesn’t notice, but he leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake. 

  don’t you think dr. won dresses like an old hag 

  You write back on the scrap of paper: 

actually you could learn a thing or two from her 

  Yoongi smirks, in classic Yoongi fashion. 

You know I would rock a long skirt like her 

  Yoongi watches you read his message, smile, and then tuck the note into your notebook. 

~

After class, Dr. Won reminds everyone of the midterm coming up two weeks from now, and that’s when Yoongi senses an opportunity. The two of you walk out of class together, forced to walk side by side because of the student foot traffic.

“Do you like, want to study together sometime?” Yoongi blurts out, louder than he needs to be, even among the hum of the other students. 

 He clears his throat. “I mean, we’ve shared a lot of classes, so.” 

You can’t help but laugh in surprise, or maybe incredulousness. You resist the urge to let the satisfaction show on your face. “I didn’t know you ever noticed.” 

“Of course I did. You’re like, the biggest nerd on the planet.” Even when Yoongi is teasing you, he can’t help but sound bashful. 

You gasp in mock offense. “There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd.” You both stop, standing at the mouth of the lecture hall. 

“Of course not.” He’s awfully close to you, close enough that you can see the mole on the tip of his nose. “That’s why I’m asking you to be my study buddy.”

It’s not necessary to be standing this close. Sure, the hallway is busy, but not that busy. 

“Study buddy? That sounds lame.” You scoff, playing hard to get. Both you and Yoongi know you’re going to say yes anyway. 

“What else do you want me to call you? My homework homie?” 

“Uh, yeah . That sounds way better than study buddy. ” You’re more proud of your humor than anything else, even if it earns a deserved eye-roll from Yoongi. 

“And midterms are coming up. So you know, mutually beneficial.” Yoongi takes a sip from his coffee, peering at you from behind the rim.   

“Like… friends with benefits?” You can’t help yourself. It’s just too easy to flirt with him. 

Yoongi tongues his cheek, he grins. “Only if you want it to be.” He’s having way too much fun with this. 

You try to hide your reaction, but Yoongi notices anyway. (He notices a lot of things you don’t realize.) Your wide-eyed shock, the blush that’s flushing down your neck, the way you open your mouth as if to say something equally as flirtatious back, your laugh, like this is actually way more casual than it is. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes,” He says. You could get used to the playful lilt in his voice. 

“Only if you promise you won’t just copy my work.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, suddenly very aware of how tall he is. 

“I live and die by the honor code, y/n. Of course I won’t,” Yoongi says, leaning ever closer to you in the cramped hallway. 

You quirk an eyebrow. “Does a man of honor text me like you did last night?” 

“Oh come on. If you’re going to be friends with me you’re going to have to learn to laugh at dirty humor.” Friends? It’s a start, at least. 

“Who said that I didn’t like dirty humor?” 

“Hmm, I did.” There’s a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. “You’d have to be a woman of your word and show me.” 

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You flash an innocent smile, like you don’t see the implication of what he’s saying. 

~

Tuesdays have always been the most bittersweet day of the week for you. It’s lesson day, but oh, it’s lesson day. It feels like the day of judgement, every single week. It’s a culmination of all the blood and tears that you’ve poured into your music in the past week, another chance at evaluation. You’ve known your violin teacher longer than you’ve been in college, and it still shouldn’t scare you this much.

The nervousness spins and dips in your chest as you make your way up the winding stairs that lead to the music building. You usually soothe the apprehension by reminding yourself of all the things you’ve done to prepare, just like you usually do before you go out on stage. This week you were supposed to get the rest of the Bach partita memorized and cleaned up, but it still resides in your memory as disjointed bits and pieces of what it’s actually supposed to sound like. You try to run through the parts that you were stuck on last night, but you draw a blank. You usually don’t take this long to commit pieces to memory, but when you open up your score, all you can think about is the unmoving stare of the audience. Seeing your life flash before your eyes every time you stare at your pencil markings isn’t exactly conducive to productive practice sessions. 

As you retrieve your violin from your locker and make your way to the practice room, you feel like you’re preparing yourself for your own undoing—every scale, every tick of the metronome—another step towards your demise. 

It shouldn’t be this serious, but the pitter-pattering of your heart says otherwise. You glance at the clock. It’s time. You pack up now, so you have a couple extra minutes to wait solemnly outside of her office, staring at the posters that advertise the professionals who come to perform concerts at your college. Next week, a pianist and violinist duo is coming. In the picture, they’re smiling proudly next to a Steinway piano. They look proud of themselves. They probably don’t feel like they’re allergic to the stage, probably live for the audience’s applause. That’s probably how they ended up there on the poster, after all. 

Your violin teacher isn’t scary. She’s a homey, lovely old woman whose wrinkles come from a lifetime of smiling. She’s the type to bring you sweet, homemade pastries that are almost as warm as her hugs during the toughest parts of the semester. Which makes the moments when she’s unhappy all the more painful. It’s not her fear that plagues you, but disappointment. 

The door clicks open, and you have no more time to ponder your failures as a musician. You gather your things and head inside. Nothing inside her office has changed since the previous week. The same teetering stack of well-loved method books sits on her chair, the same humidifier whirring steadily in the corner, the same Dr. Kim Hyung-Seo sitting on the piano bench. 

“Good afternoon, y/n! How’s the Bach coming along?” She asks, like you haven’t spent the past week treating this piece like your mortal enemy. She takes a sip of her warm chamomile tea, from the same snowman-shaped mug that she’s used every week, because she is that endearing. In another life, she would probably be your grandmother. 

“Good morning. Ah, you know…” You trail off and gesture into the air, trying to hide your grimace. How could you possibly describe the unease and unsureness around performing without crossing some kind of professional boundary? 

“Let’s hear it, it’s okay. Are you all warmed up?” You nod as you unpack your things again. As you move to put the Bach score on the music stand, she tuts. 

“Didn’t we agree that this would be memorized last week?” Dr. Kim flips through her lesson notes, inky blue scrawling over the pages. “Yeah, it should be memorized. Close the score, darling.” Usually, when Dr. Kim calls you darling, warmth unfurls in your chest and you beam. You’re not feeling particularly warm right now. 

“Ah, okay…” With slow reluctance, you close the score, the plain paper cover mocking you. You lift your bow to your violin, and shut your eyes. You don’t want to watch this. 

~

Yoongi (4:38pm): Hey 

Yoongi (4:38pm): wanna study tonight :] 

If there’s anything Yoongi is good at, it’s having perfect timing. You half-walk, half-run out of the music building, sucking frigid air into your lungs. The cold weather seems to force the tears back into your eyes. If there was ever a worst-case scenario for how a lesson could go, then that was what just played out in the music room. 

Shutting your eyes won’t stop the barrage of images, playing the world’s cruelest slideshow behind your eyelids. Your teacher’s pursed lips, the still fingers clasped over her mug, the pinched brow. 

“y/n, we don’t have much more time to clean it up…” Her words echo in your head. “We’ll try again next week…” The disappointment was the worst thing, the downward tone in her voice. “I expected better…” 

You (5:15pm): maybe 

You (5:15pm): what time? 

  Yoongi (5:20pm): like now 

Yoongi (5:23pm): are you busy? 

  You (5:25pm): no I just finished up a lesson 

You (5:26pm): i’m about to study in the library if you want to join me 

  Yoongi (5:30pm): I don’t want to go to the library :( 

  You (5:31pm): why not 

  Yoongi (5:32pm): if I feed you dinner will you come to my apartment 

Yoongi (5:33pm): I really don’t want to walk to the library it’s too damn cold 

  After all, the best way to a woman's heart is through her stomach.

  You (5:35pm): fine 

You (5:35pm): it better be a hell of a dinner 

  Yoongi (5:36pm): of course it will 

Yoongi sends you his location, and you’re walking as fast as you can through the campus to make it to his apartment before you can freeze your fingers off. 

~

Yoongi’s expression is nothing short of scandalized when you show up at his door. It’s a typical mouse hole apartment, his front door identical to all the other ones that you’d passed to get here. 

“You’re not wearing gloves? In this weather?” 

“I don’t have any…” You rasp out. You’re tired. Your throat hurts from trying to hold tears back during your entire lesson, and you have no spirit left to give Yoongi an innuendo-laced comeback. 

I expected better. 

“Oh my god, you’ve been playing violin for how many years and nobody ever told you to wear gloves when it’s cold?” He leads you inside, the warmth abating the cold that’s wormed its way underneath your clothes and into your bones. 

“For God’s sake, y/n, hasn’t anyone ever told you about the importance of blood circulation?” Yoongi clasps your hands between his, rubbing and blowing air on them to warm them up. He doesn’t notice your surprise amid his chastising, muttering something about common sense. You don’t try to keep your guard up this time, just trying to bite tears back at the mention of musicianship. The firm press of his hands grounds you. 

“There.” He smiles, proud of himself. “Warm now?” 

Oh yeah, you’re definitely warm. In every dimension of the word. But you don’t tell him that, so you settle for a weak nod. 

“You can put your stuff there. I’m hungry now, let’s eat first?” You hum in affirmation as you settle your heavy backpack on his cramped couch. 

It turns out that Min Yoongi’s idea of gourmet cooking is heating up two freezer-burnt Hot Pockets while you watch him putter around the tiny kitchenette. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him without his glasses, and this is when you finally internalize that Yoongi will always look good no matter what he does or wears or says. 

“You made it seem like you were cooking,” You say, just to fill the silence. 

“Uhhhh, I don’t know who told you I was capable of cooking, but they were wrong. I can show you a good time in other ways, no?” 

You snort. 

In hopes of saving time, he microwaves both of Hot Pockets at the same time. You silently bristle at the fact that even your dinner is getting more action than you are these days. 

You and Yoongi eat together in his tiny living room, sitting on mismatched stools.  

“How did your lesson go?” Yoongi says, more focused on eating than on you. 

“Oh…” You set your Hot Pocket down, sighing in defeat. The image of Dr. Kim sitting behind the piano bench, her dissatisfaction like a noxious cloud. “I… I…  got ripped apart. I’m a little behind with preparing for the Bach festival, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing I do or prepare will make me less stressed about it.” You slump onto the counter, recounting all the things you did wrong in your lesson today. I expected better. 

“What’s the stress about? We still have over a month, right?” You’re suddenly jealous of Yoongi. His nonchalance, his seemingly constant reassurance that everything is going to be okay. 

“I’m not worried about that… just, no matter how much I practice, I’m gonna fuck it up on stage.” Your forehead pinches in frustration. 

“Are you that nervous?” 

“I’ve always been this nervous. For any performance. I haven’t performed alone in a while… and you know. It’s Bach, and everyone expects me to do some amazing job, and it’s like, I don’t know if I can deliver that and-” Yoongi eases his hand on your shoulder, calm, reassuring. He looks concerned. Like he cares. Like a friend. 

“When was the last time you played something just for the fun of it?”

“I don’t know, maybe my freshman year? I used to arrange themes from movies.” 

“We should work on something together, just for fun. We’re such a perfect instrument combo, there’s so much repertoire for violin and piano.” 

“What did you have in mind? Do you even have enough time for that?” (You know you don’t have enough time for that.) 

“It doesn’t even have to be a difficult piece. It could be something easy or hard, I don’t care.” Yoongi ponders his next words over a bite of his food. “I… I... just want to see you less stressed out. And music should always be fun, not just for a grade. What kind of music would you be making if you weren’t happy?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“I know this one Brahms piece that I think you’d like. Totally fits your vibe. We can just work on it slowly, you know? Or we could arrange the Anpanman theme song, I don’t care.” 

~

“I think I’m mostly good for the midterm, except for the composer dates,” Yoongi spins around in his office chair, dragging his feet on the ground. 

“Me too,” You say, as you drink in the sight of his room. For someone who claims to abhor studying and all things academic, Yoongi appears to be quite the organized student. Despite the constant claim that his education is merely a necessary evil, he keeps his notes organized in uniform binders on a well-cared for bookshelf. The bookshelf is adjacent to the extremely detailed wall calendar, marked full with due dates and deadlines in pens of various colors. 

He runs his fingers over the binders to locate the binder allocated to the species counterpoint class you’re taking together. 

“I already have flashcards for everything before the Romantic Era, but I’m so fucked for everything else.” 

“Why not just use Quizlet like everyone else?” You say. You eye his neatly made bed and the Kumamon stuffed animal shoved hastily underneath it. 

“Back in my day, we used flashcards like cavemen,” Yoongi reasons, despite the fact that your birthdays are months within each other. “And besides, they feel better in your hand.” Of course, they’re indexed by color and musical era. 

~

“Ugh, I hate sitting at my desk. My back is starting to hurt,” Yoongi says, despite having worked for about ten minutes. “Do you want to lay down?” He pats the fluffy comforter adjacent to him. Yoongi doesn’t wait for your response however, plopping down on the bed with an audible thump. 

“Okay, old man,” You jibe, but you’ve also been sitting for a majority of the day. Your back is aching too, but you’ll never admit it to him. 

Sometimes, at times like these, you wish you could just muster up the courage and stop playing this game of cat and mouse with him. When you lay on his sheets that smell like him, quizzing each other, you wonder what would happen if you confessed your feelings for him, right then and there. 

Or outlined exactly how exactly you would take his cock in your mouth, given the chance. Other times, you consider the fact that he might like to play with his food before diving in. Whatever it was, it scared you, the unease climbing up your spine and staying put. 

You wonder if he understands the implication of you so casually lounging on his bed, but then you realize that you likely don’t exist in the realm of romantic possibilities for him. He likely sees you as the nerdy, sexless violinist that spends all her time slaving away in the practice room or the library. That’s why you’re here, after all. To help study for the midterms coming up. “Being friends with him is better than nothing,” you tell yourself, but you can’t really bring yourself to believe it. 

You don’t remember, or at least don’t care to, when Yoongi started touching every aspect of your life. It’s really only been a couple of weeks since the two of you started studying together. You don’t dare to imagine how much of your thoughts he would occupy if you continue your friendship into the coming months. If your crush of massive proportions was bad before, it’s truly out of hand now. It certainly didn’t help that he actually knew you existed now. He spammed you gifs of baby animals while he was on the way to class, texted you links to performances of pieces that he was working on. He even began to send you teasing texts on the mornings that he made it to the practice rooms before you. 

Every experience you have is colored by thoughts of him. The coffee that you drink like ambrosia conjures up images of him sitting across from you in some far-off sunlit cafe, laughing at all your jokes. On the nights when sleep escapes  you, you lay awake rehashing over and over what you had said to him on the previous day. You even fall into reveries when he’s sitting there right next to you. 

 It’s inescapable, especially with the Bach Festival looming over your head. The more time you spend in the practice room, the more you go back to that one fateful night. You can still see the image of him now, sitting before the piano, playing Chopsticks. 

You both make your way through the fat deck of flashcards, Yoongi quizzing you first. 

“J.S. Bach?” You note to yourself even the upswing in his voice was cute. How did you ever let yourself get so whipped?

“1685 to…” You falter, still stuck on his voice. Even his voice drives you crazy. 

“Come on, you should know this.” He drives his point home by poking you in the side, and he likes the gasp that you make. 

“1750.” Of course you know Bach’s birth and death dates by heart. You see it every time you open up your score. Even the scant prod he gave you in the side, over your clothes, is enough to make your skin heat up. 

“And if you ever tickle me again, you won’t live long enough for midterms,” You threaten, but your harsh tone of voice doesn’t reach the light in your eyes. 

“Brahms?” 

“Ugh, fuck, I don’t know. 1832 to?” 

“Wrong.” He sets the cards down next to him, looking at you in mock disappointment. In an instant, he attacks you with tickles, and your efforts to bat him away are fruitless. 

“This-this is what you get for not knowing when Brahms was born! Learn through punishment! 1833 to 1897, remember that next time!!” He collapses on top of you, burying his face in your neck, unrelenting. Yoongi sounds almost gleeful in your torture. 

You writhe under his touch, and for all the wrong reasons. 

For the first time in your life, you’re almost glad you’re ticklish. Your eyes roll back into your head, not of your own accord. It’s too much, the soft skin of his cheek pressed up against your neck, the warm weight of his body against yours, the way his legs cage you in. A moan slips in between your helpless giggles, and Yoongi doesn’t miss it. 

“Uhhh, what was that?” He doesn’t stop, merciless in his advance. “I didn’t know you liked tickling… like that.” He’s teasing you, now. He can’t hide his pleased grin. 

Between gasps, you manage to pant, “I… don’t…” 

“Then what? Tell me.” That’s when Yoongi relents, leaning back. He continues to straddle you, because he’s cruel like that. (And because he likes it too.)

“You’re just… ugh, I don’t know… so close.” In Yoongi’s eyes, you’re a study in debauchery. From your struggle, your hair is mussed, the hem of your shirt awry. Your cheeks are flushed, from embarrassment or from the tickling, you don’t know. Your chest frantically rises and falls, trying to regain your breath. 

You, on the other hand, feel fucking ridiculous. Contrary to popular belief, being on the recieving end of tickling is fucking physically exhausting. 

Yoongi is stuck on the hot and bothered look on your face, except for the hard look in your eye. You despise being tickled, even if it is Min Yoongi doing the tickling. He wonders what you’d look like if you were underneath him in… different circumstances. 

Would it compare? 

“I… I… I just…” You avert your gaze now, hiding your face behind your hands. You can’t stand to look at him right now. 

“Spill it, or I’ll go back to tickling you until you break.” He grabs your hands away from your face, pinning them next to your head. 

He really isn’t going to make this easy for you, is he. 

This is overwhelming. The eye contact is too much. The weight of his hands on your wrists, holding you down, is too much. The way his panting breath tickles the skin beneath your collar is too much. You’ve had a bad day, the voice in the back of your head whispers. He makes you forget how awful this semester has been. He makes you feel better. Make this day easier on yourself. Just give in. 

There’s no hiding it now, you concede. 

You shut your eyes, unable to face him. “It’s just… been a while.” 

“Uh-huh. Continue?” He places his hands back on your stomach, as if in warning. 

“Since uhhhh… I’ve done… anything… with anyone…” Your words hang heavy in the air. Your secret is out. 

He laughs. He really has the audacity to laugh. 

“Shut up! I’m just like, touch starved, okay?” You’re definitely just blushing out of embarrassment, at this point. 

Yoongi starts to ponder if he crossed too far of a line, but you continue anyway.  You huff, indignant and desperate to cover your ass. This is not how you ever imagined telling Yoongi you were ever interested in him, sexual or not. 

“Not everyone is like, the campus pussy magnet and gets to fuck whenever they want,” You say. 

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m not the campus pussy magnet. We’re... not so different. I haven’t been with anyone, um, in a while.” Now Yoongi takes his turn to blush and stutter. He does that thing he always does when he’s nervous, runs a hand through his hair and lets it rest on the nape of his neck.  

“I find that hard to believe. No need to lie out of pity. Like, come on. Look at you. You’re all…” You gesture down his body, “And you have that whole vibe going on, and you’re tall, and you have good taste in cologne, and-and-and you play the piano , and ugh. You should know that by now.” You babble on. You’re not that good at keeping secrets, anyway. Might as well let the cat out of the bag while you’re at it. 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you’re not fazed. By now, you’re used to the long silences that elapse when you’re with him. You wait for him to talk first, just so you can discreetly enjoy the feeling of him straddling you for a little longer. You try to pass off the silence as you quietly fuming at him for calling out your lackluster sex life, but you’re really just trying get yourself together. 

Then he starts laughing. Again.  

“What are you laughing for now?” Your brow furrows in frustration. 

“Nothing, nothing, don’t be mad. I just didn’t think that tickling would be a turn on for you.” 

“It’s not!” 

“To be completely honest with you, you look like one of those really innocent soft girls on the outside but you’re actually like, into choking and have a secret sex dungeon.” He doesn’t seem to care that you’ve all but revealed your massive, terminal crush on him. 

You sigh, but you’re just glad he gave you something to fire back with. 

“You and I both know that the university dorms are too small for a sex dungeon, Yoongi. I can’t even have candles in my room. What sex dungeon is complete without candles?” 

“Oh, a devil in the details. The ambiance is important, I see…” That devious smile of his makes a comeback. 

“Oh, shut up. Give me the flashcards, four-eyes.” He relinquishes the flashcards, but he still continues to straddle you. 

“Woah, there’s no need to insult my glasses.”

You ignore him, desperate to move on from your momentary lapse in judgement. “Haydn?”

“1732 to 1809. What about music? Music must be important if you care about the ambiance. Answer my question.” 

You laugh to cover up how worked up you are. “Maybe you can find out after we finish reviewing. Scarlatti?” 

“1660 to 1725. What kind of music do you listen to? R&B, something sexy?” He sits up now, spurred on by your refusal to answer his questions. 

“Or do you listen to classical music then, too? Does Chopin get your blood flowing?” He’s being insufferable now.

You groan into the pillow. “Yoongiii, let’s focus.” 

“If it’s something like Liszt, I’m sure I have a couple recommendations.” 

Yoongi sits up straighter, waggles his eyebrows in a way you definitely shouldn’t find endearing. “Or, I could record something for you…” 

You snap. “Just, I don’t know, sometimes I listen to music?” Your attempts to stop the blushing are in vain, heat blooming across your cheeks and down your neck. It’s even harder to stop when it’s your embarrassingly short sexual history on the line. 

“I prefer dirty talk anyways…” You murmur under your breath, wishing he could just get the fuck off your case. The more he keeps talking about things like this, in that tone of voice, the harder it’s going to get to keep your ever-growing crush a secret. 

Still, some small part (let’s be honest, the monkey brain part of you) of you, the part of you that aches for him, wants to spur him on. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing! Nothing.” 

“Hmm… something about dirty talk?” Fuck, does Yoongi have a good ear. He smiles. He knows he’s gotten you now. 

Okay, you should probably admit to yourself that he’s flirting with you now. The touches, the holding you down, the insistence on pushing this tiny matter, it all adds up. And the math says that Min Yoongi is flirting with you. 

“Mmm, nothing.” You snuggle a little deeper into his bedsheets, playing coy.

“You know, like during sex? Don’t make me tickle you again, because I will stoop that low.” 

“I don’t remember saying that…” You mock-pretend to ponder his question, catch your bottom lip between your teeth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his gaze fall downward. You know you’ve gotten him now. 

“Can you refresh my memory?” 

“Like… you know.” He shrugs. 

“I’m an auditory learner. Do you have an example?” 

“Hmm, let me think… I’ll tease you until you’re begging for me to touch you properly? Does that ring a bell for you?” 

“No…” You bring your hands to your face to cover up your blush, and because you can’t stand to look at him. Not when he’s talking to you like that, with that look in his eye, his hands on your body. “It doesn’t…” You laugh, even beneath his weight. 

He laughs. “I’m just teasing. You’re so cute when I get a rise out of you.” 

Oh. 

[sage-nebula]

The thing about Kukui is that, his annoying speech pattern* aside, he could have been such an interesting character.

(*Note before I go further: It’s not the slang I have a problem with, it’s the over-abundance of slang. Hau used some Hawaiian slang as well in his speech, but it was peppered in naturally. Kukui broke up every sentence with a “hoo!” or “whoa!” and it just . . . read as very unnatural and difficult to get through. Had NoA / Game Freak toned it down some, it would have been a lot more tolerable.)

As annoyed as I am by the fact that so much focus was put on Kukui and his desire for a League, rather than letting Burnet be the prominent professor given that her career focus actually has relevance to the overall plot, Kukui’s desire to make Alola into a region with a League system for government could have been an interesting story to tell as well, particularly since the seeds are there for it to actually be a lot deeper and more serious than it is actually presented in the game. Alola, as we know it, is a religious oligarchy; multiple mentions are made to the fact that the people of Alola actually worship the Tapu, seeing them as guardian deities (and that Solgaleo and Lunala are, similarly, seen as deities, albeit far less present ones), and we know that the Kahunas are a.) chosen by the Tapu, and b.) basically govern each island. It is said that someone who is chosen to be a Kahuna by a Tapu cannot refuse the duty (or else Nanu would no doubt have refused), and also that the people more or less follow the Kahunas without much question. Team Skull are the exception to this, but they’re seen as outcasts and degenerates, to the point where they have to steal food from the Berry Gardens in SM just to have something to eat (I noticed they cut that bit out of USUM, probably because they didn’t want to make Team Skull seem sympathetic, even though they still are). Considering the fact that the Kahunas are also the ones who choose the Trial Captains, Alola’s entire system of government is essentially dependent on the whims of four pokémon, most of whom don’t even show themselves to the general populace with anything even approaching regularity.

Over the course of the game, Kukui tells us that he got the idea to form a League in Alola during his Badge quest in Kanto. Now, while we know from a Doylist standpoint that Kanto was chosen as the region Kukui journeyed through because it was the 20th anniversary and Game Freak wanted to pay tribute, from a Watsonian standpoint this actually makes the fact that Kukui decided to basically overturn Alola’s system of government after a journey abroad very interesting, because while there are many other regions that have a League system of government, none of them are the antithesis to everything Alola is like Kanto is.

Of all the regions we have had so far, Kanto is the region that is the least steeped in faith. Its sister region, Johto, is very faithful to its legends, history, and traditions; the closest Johto ever got to truly stepping away was during the war that set the Burned Tower on fire, and after that the Johtoans learned their lesson. Although they do have a Radio Tower in Goldenrod City, as well as the Magnet Train connecting Goldenrod and Saffron, it’s clear from cities and towns such as Ecruteak, Azalea, and Blackthorn that Johto is still very traditionalist and isn’t moving away from that any time soon. Similarly, while Hoenn is more modern in some respects, cities such as Sootopolis still deeply respect their culture, the Draconids (while they have been marginalized pretty severely) still hold fast and true to their traditions, and places such as Mt Pyre and the Sky Pillar make it clear that Hoenn hasn’t forgotten its roots and still cares for its history. Sinnoh is so deep in myth and lore that it’s a tagline, and its Champion, Cynthia, actively works to keep those traditions alive. Statues, markers, and sacred sites to legends such as the creation trio or the lake trio are everywhere in Sinnoh. The fact that Johto and Sinnoh are so connected (via the Sinjoh Ruins) just goes to show how deeply faithful both of these regions are. Unova is very modern, but again, it’s founded on a legend that it adheres pretty strongly to, what with the Tao orbs sticking around after so long, and random citizenry telling you about the djinn trio, et cetera. Lastly, I can’t recall Kalos having any shrines or the like for its legends, and it’s not as if the ultimate weapon is a good thing, but while it probably comes second to Kanto for being the least faithful, it still hasn’t quite committed the slights that make Kanto seem, to me, like an anti-faith region rather than a neutral-faith region.

You see, Kanto once had a tower that was built to house and honor dead pokémon. Kanto then, in the span of three years, decided to rip it down in order to build a radio tower there instead (and then wondered why the radio tower was haunted, I mean, ffs guys, you desecrated a sacred pokémon burial gound to build your gaudy radio tower, why do you think it’s haunted?). Kanto has four natural legendary pokémon (the birds + Mew), and yet there is not a single tribute, shrine, or marker for any of them. Instead:

Zapdos is forced to hole up in an abandoned power plant. Three years later the power plant is in use again, so I’m assuming Zapdos got told to gtfo.

Moltres is forced to hole up in an abandoned laboratory on Cinnabar Island in the first gen. Three years later the volcano on Cinnabar erupted, so Moltres’ home was gone and it had to gtfo. In the FRLG remakes, Moltres has a mountain in the Sevii Islands instead, so I guess that’s a bit better, but it’s still not a place in Kanto proper, unlike how Ho-Oh has an entire tower to itself in Johto.

Articuno is in the Seafoam Islands. So, not much worse than what Lugia has, I guess, but still nothing approaching any sort of tribute.

And Mew . . .

Oh, Mew.

So, most Kantonians know nothing about their myths or legends. Even in regions such as Unova or Kalos, where things are quite modern and you don’t often see shrines or the like, you’ll have NPCs telling you things about the various legendary pokémon. The people still know of them, but this isn’t something that you see in Kanto. Or at least, despite the fact that I remember random dialogue from Team Rocket grunts in Kanto (e.g. I squealed when a Team Rainbow Rocket grunt said to me, “I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a kid! It’s time you learned to fear adults!” in USUM because a Team Rocket grunt says that to you in I think Silph Co. in RGBY (and if not Silph Co., then the Game Corner), I don’t ever remember NPCs talking about the legendary birds. Instead, the legendary birds were just there, and you could find and capture them if you wanted. No one in Kanto cared about them.

Mew . . . is a slightly different story.

You don’t learn about Mew through NPC dialogue. Rather, you learn about Mew (and Mewtwo) through journals that were left in the ruins of the abandoned laboratory on Cinnabar Island (called Pokémon Mansion in game, but the journals tell you what it was used for). It turns out that one Kantonian did care about Mew, enough to seek out and capture Mew for his own research, and that Kantonian was Dr Fuji. Dr Fuji traveled to Guyana, South America Faraway Island, and while the journals left in the abandoned / destroyed laboratory say that they “discovered” Mew there, and that they “christiened” the pokémon Mew, I . . . find it extremely hard to believe that Dr Fuji didn’t know that this was Mew, and that knowing that this was Mew wasn’t his reason for wanting to clone it, especially since the journals don’t . . . exactly give an accurate account of what happened. (For instance, the journals say that Mew “gave birth” to Mewtwo, which we all know is impossible and thus did not happen.)

Back to the point:

Dr Fuji traveled to Faraway Island, captured Mew, and brought Mew back to the laboratory on Cinnabar Island in order to clone it. The fact that Mew was so far away from Kanto (presumably; Faraway Island is called Faraway Island in Emerald, meaning that it’s “far away from Hoenn”, so it could be close to Kanto, but the journals in Gen I say that Mew was found in South America, which is quite far away from Kanto if Kanto is presumably in the same geographical location as Japan, so . . . who knows) might speak to how Mew found life in Kanto, whether that be “horrible” or even just “not worthwhile.” I mean, again, there are no shrines to Mew, despite Mew supposedly being the origin of all pokémon (things get a bit dicey considering Arceus, but perhaps Arceus created Mew first, and then all others spawned from Mew? Who knows). You would think Kantonians would be proud to call Mew their own, but no one does. There are no tributes to Mew anywhere, Kantonians just do not care. Though that said, Dr Fuji cared . . .

. . . at least enough to want to clone it. Now, the journals don’t say why Dr Fuji decided to clone Mew (and no, it wasn’t because Giovanni paid him to; that’s only in the anime, in the games Giovanni had nothing to do with Mewtwo’s creation, at least in the non-mega reality). In fact, again, the journals don’t say that Mewtwo was cloned from Mew at all. This is literally all the journals say:

“Diary: July 5 Guyana, South America A new Pokémon was discovered deep in the jungle.

Diary: July 10 We christened the newly discovered Pokémon, Mew.

Diary: Feb. 6 Mew gave birth. We named the newborn Mewtwo.

Diary: Sept. 1 MEWTWO is far too powerful. We have failed to curb its vicious tendencies…

The Japanese text for the last entry is a bit different, but not really.

Diary: September 1 The Pokémon Mewtwo is far too powerful. It's no use… I cannot control it!

The most notable difference is that, in the Japanese version, Dr Fuji talks about wanting to control Mewtwo, whereas that implication is left out of the English version. Nonetheless, Mewtwo’s Pokédex entries tell us all we need to know about Mewtwo’s creation, even if Dr Fuji tried to deny accountability in his journal entries:

RED/BLUE: 

“It was created by a scientist after years of horrific gene splicing and DNA engineering experiments.”

GOLD: 

“Because its battle abilities were raised to the ultimate level, it thinks only of defeating its foes.”

CRYSTAL: 

“Said to rest quietly in an undiscovered cave, this pokémon was created solely for battling.”

RUBY/SAPPHIRE: 

“Mewtwo is a pokémon that was created by genetic manipulation. However, even though the scientific power of humans created this pokémon's body, they failed to endow Mewtwo with a compassionate heart.”

FIRERED: 

“A pokémon whose genetic code was repeatedly recombined for research. It turned vicious as a result.”

DIAMOND/PEARL: 

“A pokémon created by recombining Mew's genes. It's said to have the most savage heart among pokémon.”

And so on and so forth. Though Dr Fuji chose to omit this fact in his journals, Mewtwo was created through “horrific gene splicing experiments”, and given that Mewtwo was created to be extremely powerful (“its battle abilities were raised to the ultimate level” “created solely for battling”), but also because Dr Fuji wanted to see if he could (“repeatedly recombined for research”), we can pretty easily piece together exactly why Mewtwo was created, and why it’s the vicious, heartless killer it is today. (Because while anime!Mewtwo has a kind heart, game!Mewtwo does not. This is canonical fact. Please stop trying to force game!Mewtwo into leather pants before it murders you for the act, thanks.)

I bring all of this up because the one Kantonian we have who, canonically, probably paid at least some modicum of attention to legends, decided to not only not pay any sort of faithful adherence to said legendary, but actually chose to capture and imprison the legendary he found, perform horrific gene splicing experiments on it for years, and then created a new pokémon which then proceeded to . . . well, we don’t actually know what happened to Dr Fuji’s team. The games don’t tell us, and again, anime =/= games. However, given that Dr Fuji failed to control Mewtwo, and given that the lab was abandoned, and given that this incident caused Dr Fuji to realize the error of his ways . . . well, we can guess. Mewtwo escaped and went to hole up in the Unknown Dungeon off the coast of Cerulean. Dr Fuji survived, and renounced his Ph.D to become Mr Fuji instead, keeping watch over the Lavender Tower until his fellow Kantonians tore it down to build a radio tower there instead (and then he kept watch over the Soul House). But before he did that, he made one last trip to Faraway Island, and given that you can capture Mew there in Emerald, I’m guessing that Dr Fuji personally released Mew there, rather than Mew escaping (perhaps Mew was too weak after so many years of being horrifically experimented on to escape? Who knows). Dr Fuji also left a note on a sign there, and though it’s worn away:

“…ber, 6th day If any human…sets foot here… again…et it be a kindhearted pers… …ith that hope, I depar…” …ji”

We can assume it read like:

“…ber, 6th day If any human being sets foot here ever again, let it be a kindhearted person. With that hope, I depart.” Fuji”

So, Fuji admitted that what he did was not at all kindhearted, and certainly was not done as any act of reverence toward what would, in a region other than Kanto, be considered a god. 

And that brings me back to my original point.

Kanto is not only not a faith-based region---Kanto tends to be the opposite of that. The Alolans, from what we see of them, would be horrified by anyone even suggesting they do to one of the Tapu what Fuji did to Mew (and particularly for the reasons that Fuji did that to Mew). It was to the point where, in order to give Lusamine somewhat of a redemption for wanting to sacrifice Cosmog, Game Freak had to write USUM in such a way that Lusamine’s actions were seen as antiheroic rather than straight-up villainous. (Which, yes, I have a lot of issues with, but that’s a discussion for another time.) Alola is deeply faith-based, to the point where their system of government is a religious oligarchy. Kanto is not only not that, but they have absolutely no awareness of their legendaries at all, and when they do get that awareness, they see it as an opportunity to capture and experiment (or make a buck from) rather than pay adherence and reverence to. Kanto is, as I stated earlier, the antithesis of Alola, in so many ways.

So it’s interesting, to me, that Kukui decided to (in a logically written story) dismantle Alola’s system of government after traveling through Kanto. The conclusion I draw from this, as a writer and someone who studies character therefore, is that as Kukui traveled through Kanto on his Badge quest, he actually dismantled and rebuilt his own internal system of meanings. Kukui traveled through Kanto and saw a region where the people don’t worship legendary pokémon. In fact, it’s highly possible that Kantonians would laugh at the mere idea, because to them, pokémon are pokémon, no matter how powerful. Why would you worship something you can capture in a ‘ball and make fight for you? The only person who would likely disagree with this notion is Fuji himself, but even then, Fuji once captured Mew and performed experiments on it. Even if Mewtwo was too powerful for him to control, and even if he regrets his actions now, I still wouldn’t say that means that Fuji would think that pokémon should ever be worshiped. Fuji would instead likely say that there are some pokémon better left alone, or at least left to powerful trainers with kind hearts, but I think even he would balk a little at the idea of pokémon being worshiped like that. At the very least, I think that the people of Kanto might see the people of Alola as being . . . backwards, and yes, that is very nasty language, but Kanto is not all sunshine, butterfree, and rainbows, you know? And I really do think that the people of Kanto would look down on Alola’s religious oligarchy, and would see the fact that the Alolan people defer to pokémon as being especially hilarious. That said, the Alolan people treat Kantonians with similarly touristy vibes (see: the “Kantonian Gym” in USUM), so it’s not as if this isn’t a two-way street.

Nonetheless, back on subject: What I see in this story is potential for Kukui to have, as I said before, completely dismantled his systems of meanings and beliefs during his journey through Kanto. I think that, at first, the fact that Kantonians have absolutely no reverence for or adherence to any pokémon as anything other than companions (for battling) or pets would shock and confuse him. He’d balk at this, he’d question it. But more and more as he traveled, he’d come to see things the way they see it. He would see how much more respected Kanto is in the grander world scheme than Alola (particularly in the way that Kantonian influence hits pretty much every other region; we have Doylist reasons for this, of course, but from a Watsonian standpoint the implications of that are pretty interesting, particularly when you consider that Johto still relies on Kanto to a degree, and Sevii is basically a Kantonian territory). And I think that, over the course of this journey and a long period of thought, the conclusion Kukui would reach would be that he would want something at least similar for Alola, which would mean dismantling the old system of religious oligarchy and switching to a League system instead.

Now, the games didn’t go all the way with this, because of course they didn’t. Kukui’s actual plan would create something akin to a civil war in Alola, complete with the Tapu themselves no doubt getting involved because they would not want to face such disrespect, and Game Freak couldn’t / wouldn’t show that. So instead what we got was Kukui just creating an Elite Four for the player to face, and naming the player Champion, and having the player therefore take on some Champion duties, such as protecting the region from region-wide threats (i.e. Team Rainbow Rocket). That’s all well and good, but a League system of government is much more than that. Leagues have Gyms and Gym Leaders, for instance, rather than Kahunas and Trial Captains. And Gym Leaders, well . . . they’re not chosen by legendary pokémon. So in the actual games themselves, Kukui didn’t actually dismantle Alola’s religious oligarchy. He just sort of . . . half-assed it, in a way that makes Alola’s League seem like a cute thing the rest of the world will kind of smile at rather than take seriously the way Kukui wanted. But if they did go all the way with it?

Well, like I said. It likely would have amounted to civil war, with Kukui at the head of the revolution, assisted by the Kantonian player that he specifically helped move to Alola for this very reason. 

Kukui is, presumably, a smart guy, so he would know that this plan of his would not go over well. He would have some help; Burnet is originally from Unova, which also has a League system, and so presumably she would see the merit in what he’s doing, particularly since I don’t think Kukui would come to hate the Tapu so much as he would no longer agree that they should get to dictate who their governmental leaders are. Molayne is Kukui’s amicable ex childhood friend, so he might help as well. Guzma hates the Kahunas and the Trial Captains and everything else, so count in him and the rest of Team Skull. It’s possible (though I don’t have sound reasoning for this other than “they joined the Elite Four”) that Kukui could convince Olivia, Acerola, and Kahili as well. Oh, and Nanu, because Nanu hates his job, so.

But the others?

Hala in particular would no doubt be very against it, considering factors such as his own role, his age, the fact that this has apparently been passed down his family, how deep into tradition he is, et cetera. I can’t see characters such as Illima and Kiawe being for it either, especially given how passionate Kiawe is about his own historical traditions and the like. And all of this isn’t even considering the average Alolan citizen, all of whom would be wrapped up in this, particularly if the Tapu themselves got involved.

And as for the player?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I can’t see a Kantonian, born and raised, finding much sense in the Alolan traditions or religious oligarchy. It’s clear that the player and their mother didn’t move to Alola because they want to adopt these belief systems; the protagonist’s mother pretty clearly moved them there because Alola is a good vacation spot. She’s clearly there just to party. The protagonist, having been born and raised in Kanto for the first eleven years, would no doubt experience some severe culture shock upon moving to Alola, and might even balk or have some shocked laughter when the Alolan people mention worshiping the Tapu, because that’s just not a thing in Kanto. And yes, that’s very ignorant, but just because the protagonist is, well, the protagonist doesn’t mean they have to be nice and the very best person ever! They were raised in a culture that is just the farthest thing from this that you can imagine, and so when you tell them that these people worship pokémon---not just use their names as vulgar interjections when stubbing their toes, sometimes, but actually worship them, with shrines and festivals and everything---they’re likely to just . . . smile and nod, at best. It’s not going to be something they understand, believe in, or take very seriously. Even when Tapu Koko saves them, well, Tapu Koko is still just a pokémon. How is Tapu Koko any more special than a golurk? A golurk could have saved the protagonist just the same. Is everyone going to start worshiping golurk now?

And that’s what Kukui is counting on.

Kukui guides the protagonist through Alola because Kukui is counting on the protagonist to be a key component of his revolution, particularly since the protagonist is a Young Person™ who can speak to other Young People™ and convince them as well. (Such as Hau, who would follow his grandfather’s ideals at first, but with the right influence . . .) When the time comes and the protagonist captures Nebby (either form), Kukui points to the protagonist and says, “See? Solgaleo/Lunala was a supposed god, but [protagonist] captured it! These aren’t deities we should worship, yeah? They’re pokémon like any other, and we should take them---and our destiny---into our own hands!” Kukui then is the one to urge the protagonist to capture the Tapu as well, and the protagonist does . . . well, not only does half of Alola see them as a heretic, but the other half’s voices and argument grow louder and stronger. It’s complete chaos, but Kukui feels it’s necessary to “modernize” Alola and move it to a place where it can stand equal with the other regions of the world (who, while they may have faith, still don’t defer to legendary pokémon to decide their fates for them).

Again, I can see why Game Freak didn’t go this route. How do you resolve a story like this? Either way you send what is no doubt a very polarizing message. But it does frustrate me a little bit that the tease is there, that Kukui had potential to be such a dynamic and interesting character, and instead he just . . . was not. At all. At least, not to me. I actually find him to be one of the most grating and annoying of the professors. Elm had no personality, but at least he wasn’t irritating, you know?

But oh well. Wasted potential is nothing new for this series. Maybe I’ll do a rewrite of the Alola games to feature this story instead. Someday . . .